Running and Chasing
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: Fillmore recalls how he used to run from both the Patrollers and his problems, and why he now chases the crooks instead of being one. [Oneshot.


Author's Note: It's late, I apologize for the crappy tense and word choice. Goodnight.

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There's something about running that changes you when the Patrollers are chasing you.

Almost every kid gets caught the first time. The adrenalin is slamming through their veins, they aren't thinking. When it gets to about thirty seconds, the average X Middle School crook is out of breath and, due to poor planning, out of options, stuck in a dead end or surrounded.

The first time don't mean much.

It's the second time that changes kids, that changed me. You analyze the situation pretty quickly in your head. Not thoroughly, sometimes kids still get caught. But half the time they can get away now. They'll head downhill, through a crowded hall, to a place without officers most of the day. The adrenalin is still there but it isn't slamming through the mind, it's helping it, pushing it along as best it can when part of you still wants to be the fool who runs like heck in the nearest direction.

Somewhere between the third and sixth time, something happened. I got into better shape. Most kids are in better shape if they're still going at it then. There is a certainty ringing clear. I knew, they know, future kids will know at that point that the Patrollers can't touch them. Think fast, live fast, die never. The crook's creedo.

That's where the arrogance forms. There is something about speeding through a hallway and across the building and not getting caught that turns people arrogant. The so called protection of the school tries, but the truth is, when I was at that point I basically had the building memorized. And I laughed. They laughed. Sonny, the old crew, and the new crooks, like the Red Robins, laughed. Because when you know to turn left here, dodge around there, and take a fall and keep running, you don't need to be meek and humble.

At that point, the Patrol probably has no evidence. They never did for me.

It's because I ran. I ran as fast and far as I could to the nearest hiding place. I jumped around and over kids, I pushed them down, I knocked down precious projects and I threw myself into multiple lockers, a dumpster, even a thorn bush once. There was no act so cruel I couldn't do it to get away, and no place so slimy and disgusting I couldn't hide there. If there was no place, I would just keep running. Though I can't try out for the school swim team, let me let you in on a little secret. I can, straight up, hold my breath for three and a half minutes.

That means I can also control my breathing pretty well. So while Wayne and Vallejo were heaving after twelve circles around and about the building, I was still going strong. I was going strong and I was with a pack. Sonny had my back, my boys had my back. Worse came to worse, they'd shove down a row of lockers and take off themselves. Too many wild boys for the tiny, out of shape squad to handle. They never caught us.

One day, though, someone did catch me.

It was a week after I had taken cover in some thorn bushes. I was all cut up but I was a punk. I figured it made me look tough. I still don't get why I thought that. I just remember running and running, and I jumped over a fence and grabbed a bike… then found myself on Freefall Hill, the steepest slope at X.

Wayne took another bike and tackled me.

He probably saved my life. We rolled and ended up covered in grass and got some bruises, but that was nothing. I was going to run. The running I'd done had changed me. That was my first reaction now. Had to run, should run, gotta get away. He stopped me, not with the badge or with a command, not even with the back up officers arriving.

"Are you alright? Do you need me to get the nurse?" He was concerned about me.

A kid I hadn't known for more than a sentence was concerned about me. I was in shock as they cuffed me and marched me to the office.

He could have run, you know. I would have. Plenty of people would have. He could have let me go to my potential, painful death. It was the crook thing to do, the thing a kid who'd been running as long as I had would have considered a logical option. If it were me, I honestly would've let him crash and run in the opposite direction, then find someone to blame it on. I would have run, it was all I knew to do.

But he had never run. Wayne was not a kid who had had to jump a fence or dive into a thorn bush. He hadn't been changed. His view of the world was a pure, straight forward one. Having never run, he confronted me, and then saved me because to do otherwise was unthinkable. He saved my life not because he was a Patroller, but because he was not a runner.

I was quiet and reserved all through my questioning. He was thoughtful and, every few questions, checked to see if Vallejo had found the First Aid kit yet.

"Why'd you do it, man?" I blurted out. "You could've just let me fall. No one would miss me."

"You don't mean that," Wayne objected, looking me in the eyes as best he could. "Your parents, your friends-"

"I'd just be one less thug in their minds," I replied coolly. "That's how people see kids like me." In my mind, the word run went through. Wayne hadn't locked the door. I could've made it.

I remained seated.

"I don't see that," Wayne remarked quietly. "You know what I see, Cornelius Fillmore? I see a kid who wanted some fun, maybe some money. You took it too far, but you aren't really a thug. A thug would just do it for the heck of it. You do this because that's all anyone thinks you can do." His light brown eyes were thoughtful. "Tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to go get the First Aid kit, talk to Vallejo about getting you assigned as my partner, then, when I get you patched up, you are getting a ride home to your house with me and my mom. Then tomorrow you're going to report back to school."

"I ain't enrolled in the Saturday classes," I informed him, as it was Friday.

"You're going to come so we can get you registered as a Patroller," he informed me, gently. He grinned suddenly, good naturedly. "Unless you'd like two months of detention in the white room."

I sat there for a moment. I had a rep. More than that, I had habits. I always was the kid tearing down the hall at the speed of light. I was the kid who had gambling money to spare for every candy machine in school. There was pride there, the pride of a kid who'd never been busted this year. My pride gave way to something then. I don't know what it was. I wanted to do something with meaning. Something was wrong with my life. It was all about that flash of adrenalin. Was there something out there better for me? Was this it?

"Okay, man," I said quietly, and my voice shook. "I'll be your partner."

Wayne's face brightened up as if I'd given him some grand illegal toy, but instead of scowling at the stupid overly happy Patroller, I found myself smiling back.

There's something about being the Patroller chasing the kid that changes you.

There is something about knowing that you aren't avoiding your problems that eases the guilt. Yeah, I was a runner. Not just physically, though. I was running to get away from everything. My problems, my fears, my wrongs. But when you're making someone else face their own problems, fears, and crimes, something inside feels satisfied.

It isn't that I liked busting them. I liked it when they got help, when kids got into therapy, got switched out of a bad teacher's class, when their lives improved. I know from experience that you don't want to face what you've done. You wanna revel in it, enjoy the spoils and ignore the means. To the crooks of the school, I pose this question. You know the spoils, and the means, but why are you doing it in the first place?

If half the crooks out there are like me, then beyond the layers of tough guy attitude and demented, false sadism, they're broken. My parents didn't seem to love me, I thought. They just wanted the perfect son to show off. It hurt. But rather than deal with that, I ran, just to give my mind something to focus on each night when I lay down to sleep and the day rushed back to me. We've all got demons to fight and problems we can't bring ourselves to deal with.

That's why now, instead of running, I chase.

Because when I catch them, they will face all their problems, and when they break down, the Safety Patrol will put them back together.


End file.
